The Decision
by Sgt. Moffitt
Summary: Just how deeply could he commit himself? Entry for the 4th Hogan's Heroes Short-Story Speed-Writing Contest.


_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; this is truly a labor of love._

The first line is from _The Invisible Man_ by Ralph Ellison.

* * *

I'm an invisible man. At least, that's the way it seems to me.

I'm the back-up, you see. The radio operator who gets to mind the store when Kinch is otherwise occupied.

Many's the night I've spent by myself sitting by the wireless, waiting for a message from London or the underground. And that's okay. I like to stay in the background.

It's not that I don't want to get involved, exactly. Hell, we're all involved in the operation, up to our necks. But leave me to the radio and the occasional diversion in the compound, thank you very much. I don't want any more responsibility than I have already.

When the Colonel proposed the operation to us back in '42, we were asked if we wanted to stay at Stalag 13 as volunteers, or if we wanted to be transferred to another stalag and assisted to escape if we wished. I chose to stay, but I didn't want to be actively involved in missions, not the way the main team is. Way too dangerous, if you ask me. I don't know how Kinch does it.

But Kinch is that kind of guy, you know? Nerves of steel and plenty of guts.

He's the Colonel's right-hand man, and that's the way it should be. Kinch has an air of authority about him, and a way of keeping everybody calm even when it seems like things have gone to hell in a handbasket.

I've always looked up to the guy. We're not close friends or anything – he's about ten years older than me, a working-class guy from Detroit, and I'm a college boy fresh out of Stanford – but I wish I was more like him. More in control. And I admit it – I wish I had his guts. Especially now, when I have this big decision to make.

I'll have to back up a bit and explain. It all started with the accident about a week ago. It wasn't anyone's fault, of course; we were playing a friendly basketball game and I had just passed the ball to Kinch, and he went in for the lay-up, sank the basket, and came down on his left ankle.

You could hear the _snap_ ten feet away. Kinch went down, gritting his teeth because it must've hurt like hell, and he turned this peculiar grayish color.

Well, Carter ran to get the medic, and Sergeant Wilson came on the double. He and Carter eased off Kinch's boot, and Kinch turned even grayer, if that was possible.

"How bad is it, Scotty?" he asked as soon as he got his breath back, and Wilson shook his head.

"Busted, Kinch," he told him.

Kinch turned his head and looked right at me. "Baker...the radio."

"Got it covered," I said, and he closed his eyes, apparently satisfied.

The next thing we knew the Kommandant had Schultz take Kinch to Hammelburg, where a doctor could set his ankle properly.

By the time Kinch got back the next day with his foot in a cast, Carter and Newkirk had rigged up a pair of crutches for him, but he wasn't allowed to use them for a couple of weeks because the doctor didn't want the fracture to heal wrong, and he was pretty much confined to bed.

I hung back from visiting Kinch in the infirmary, and I didn't want to admit why. I was busy with radio duty, of course, but that was no excuse. But yesterday he sent for me, and I went over to the infirmary feeling more than a little sheepish.

Kinch was reading a book when I came through the door, and he lowered it as I approached his cot. I guess I probably looked like a kid who'd been called to the principal's office.

"Well, well, well. Rick Baker, as I live and breathe." His left eyebrow went up, and I knew he wanted some answers.

"Hi, Kinch," I said awkwardly. "You're looking good. I've been meaning to come, but…"

Kinch eyed me closely and then sighed. "You look guilty as hell, kid. Why? You didn't break my ankle, you know. I did that all by myself."

"It's not that," I said, and I hesitated. How do you explain your own cowardice to the bravest man you know?

Kinch waited for me to continue, and then jerked his head toward a stool sitting in the corner. "Pull up a chair, Baker. I have a feeling that this might take a while."

So I obediently dragged the stool over by his cot and sat down.

Kinch didn't waste any words. "You know I'll be laid up for a while. Won't be able to go down in the tunnels."

"That's okay, Kinch," I hastened to reassure him. "I can get some of the other guys to share radio watch. They can come get me if a message arrives."

"Good...that's good," he said. "But you know there'll be more to it than that."

I hung my head. "I know. But I can't do what you do, Kinch. I can't take your place."

"You won't be taking my place," Kinch said. "You'll be making your own place on the team."

"You don't understand," I muttered. "I just don't have what it takes to be part of the main team. I don't want the responsibility; I'd rather stay under the radar, you know?"

Kinch nodded thoughtfully. "I get it. You want to be invisible."

I froze for a moment; it was as if he could read my mind. "Yeah."

He gave me a half-smile. "Sounds kinda funny, coming from a guy who fought as hard as you did to get into the Tuskegee program."

I squirmed a bit.

Kinch went on, "And it sounds kinda funny coming from a guy who managed to keep his head through all those bombing missions we took part in, especially the last one. Getting shot down and captured was no joke, but you handled yourself just fine, and helped the rest of us get through it too."

I must have looked unconvinced, for he added, "You know, Baker, when this lousy war ends and we go back home, you and I will be going home to a whole new struggle: one for equal rights under the law. We won't be able to be invisible then; we'll have to be seen, and heard, if we want to make a difference. You've got an opportunity right here and now to make a difference in the fight against the Nazis. And I know you can do it, kid."

"I don't know..."

He picked up his book again; he wasn't going to push me. "Think about it, anyway. If you want to join the main team - risks and responsibilities and all - I'll talk to the Colonel."

...

So today I've been thinking long and hard about this, and it's clear to me now. Sure, I'm scared, but we're all scared, right? Kinch says he knows I can do it, and I know I can do it. I'll take my place on the team, and do my damnedest to help the Colonel succeed in whatever he has planned. I've made my decision.

I'm not going to be invisible anymore.


End file.
